


It's All Fun And Games

by da_petty



Series: The Amorous Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Eggs, Figging, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Nudity, Ridiculous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-06 23:27:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20515253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/da_petty/pseuds/da_petty
Summary: Sherlock perpetrates yet another assault on John's body.





	It's All Fun And Games

**Author's Note:**

> Russian translation here: https://ficbook.net/readfic/9730080 provided by the ever fabulous Zerbrechlich.

“Did you know that the rectum is warm enough to hard boil an egg?”

“No, it’s not.”

“It’s true.”

“It’s not.”

“Sounds more like a theory to me, though. I doubt that anyone’s ever tried it before, but we could…” 

“Not happening.”

“What if I hard boil it first?”

“Defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?”

The kitchen was quiet for a moment, the only sounds were newspaper pages being turned and tea being sipped.

“Just how long can it possibly take one person to drink a cup of tea?” Sherlock asked in exasperation.

John looked up from the kitchen table where he’d been peacefully reading the paper and enjoying a cuppa until Sherlock came bounding in with all of his energy and talk of eggs.

“It’ll take as long as it takes, Sherlock. I have nowhere to be today and I’m relaxing. Go find something to do with yourself.” John went back to reading his paper.

“What kind of answer is that? That tells me absolutely nothing!” Sherlock said, exasperated.

“I’m not letting you stick an egg up my arse, hard boiled or otherwise,” John said without glancing up.

“Fine. How about…” Sherlock began.

“No. You are not shoving anything in my rectum today. My arse is still burning from that figging you talked me into the other night.” 

Sherlock had somehow convinced John into letting him insert a piece of peeled ginger - carved into the shape of a dildo - into his anus two days ago. His arsehole had felt like it was on fire and that fire had seemed to last forever. He’d finally resorted to putting a wet flannel in the freezer briefly and then folding it in two and shoving it between his arse cheeks. And then Sherlock had wanted to fuck him afterwards which John had said no to comparing it to having a red hot poker shoved up his arse and that he’d frankly prefer the poker to Sherlock’s cock at that point. 

Sherlock had been insulted and had flounced off to his bedroom in a huff, slamming the door so hard that a picture had fallen off of the wall, glass shattering on impact. He didn’t even open his door to see what had happened and he certainly didn’t clean it up. John took care of it, as he did with all of the things that Sherlock felt was beneath him which was pretty much everything.

John hadn’t seen him in two days, and had been enjoying Sherlock’s quiet sulk when suddenly; eggs. No apologies. No greeting. He’d just launched into that hard boiled egg nonsense. Sherlock was up to something. He was playing one of his bait and switch games where he suggested the most ridiculous thing that he could think of and then acted as if he’d given in to John and “settled” for asking him to do whatever crazy thing it was that he’d wanted in the beginning. The goal being that the first thing was so outrageous that the real request seemed reasonable in comparison. 

This was new though. There was no way that Sherlock actually believed that the human body was hot enough to boil and egg. Whatever he wanted must really be a doozy this time.

Sighing, John set his paper down on the kitchen table and resigned himself to listening to Sherlock’s latest idea.

“Does it involve nudity?”

“John! Of course it does!”

“Not interested.”

“But, you haven’t heard the details! You can’t just say ‘no’ without all the facts.”

John just sat, staring at Sherlock impassively.

“It won’t hurt. I promise!”

“Uh huh.”

“Just give me one chance and if you get hurt in any way, you can quit and I won’t bother you again.”

“For now.”

“What?”

“You won’t bother me again for now. Is there a statute of limitations on how long before you WILL bother me again?”

“You’re being silly. Do you want to hear my idea or not?”

“Not.” John said and then caved when Sherlock gave him the most adorable puppy eyes ever.

“Fine.”

“Great! Thanks! You won’t regret it.”

“Uh huh.”

***

“I don’t see why this couldn’t be done via text.”

“Because it’s rude to just text this kind of thing to someone. At the very least, you should call.”

Mycroft stopped midway up the stairs to John and Sherlock’s flat, removed his mobile from his pocket and hit speed dial to call his brother.

“Don’t you dare hit ‘send’, we’re already here anyhow. Put that damned thing away.” Greg said, annoyed, but secretly amused.

“Fine,” Mycroft huffed, shoving the mobile back into his jacket’s interior pocket.

They’d reached the door and were just about to knock when they heard loud voices coming from inside the flat.

“Sounds like a domestic. We should go,” Mycroft said.

“Don’t you dare!” 

Greg had his fist raised to knock when there was a crash followed by some rather creative cursing by Doctor Watson. Greg looked at Mycroft and said;

“Ex-military.”

“Indeed. A couple of those were new to me.”

They grinned at each other.

“Let’s just give them a few minutes to calm down and we’ll try again,” Greg said.

***

“OW! Fucking hell, Sherlock! That’s my nipple! How the hell did you do that?!”

“Luck?”

“Luck?! Get off me! You said that if you hurt me, I could go. You just hurt me. And not for the first time either. I don’t know why I let you talk me into doing these sort of things,” John said, exasperation clear in his voice.

“Don’t be such a child, John. It’s just a nipple…and possibly a small bruise forming…OW! Why did you do that?!” Sherlock exclaimed, rubbing his freshly pinched nipple.

“Now, we’re even. Should you hurt me again, just keep that in the back of your mind,” John said smugly.

“Really, John. A nipple for a nipple?”

“Are we doing this or not?”

“Definitely!” Some scratching could be heard and then.

“No. I can’t do that. I won’t do that. It’s physically impossible. Ask for something else.”

“But John…”

“No. It’s not just that I won’t do it. I physically can’t do it. My shoulder can’t support that kind of pressure and you know it.”

“Oh. Right. Fine then.”

More scratching.

“Ah HAH! How about this one? I KNOW you can do this one!” Sherlock crowed triumphantly.

“Fine,” John said, giving up. Sherlock had to finish any second now so he’d just wait him out. The bastard.

John moved into position.

“There. See?! Comfy, right?” Sherlock said with a smile.

“Hell NO it’s not comfortable! Just get on with it.”

More scratching.

“Oh. Well, this is interesting…” Sherlock said.

“What? What’s interesting?” John knew that tone of voice. Something he most definitely wasn’t going to like was about to occur.

“I have to get on top of you.”

“How is that news? That was always going to be the way this ended.”

“John. Are you questioning my ability to support my own body weight?” Sherlock demanded.

“Yeah. That’s exactly what I’m doing. Just, get on top so we can finish and I can go back to reading the paper.”

“Ever the romantic, John.” 

“You think that THIS, is romantic?”

“Well, if you’d stop complaining, it could be.”

“Just do it. Do it now. Either way, I’m done.”

“Fine.” It took a few minutes before Sherlock had himself precisely lined up over John’s nude body.

“There, see?!” Sherlock said triumphantly.

“What’s that wobble?”

“What wobble?”

“Your arms are shaking. It’s almost as if they can’t support your weight in this awkward position.”

“It’s fine! I could stay like this all day!” Sherlock snapped. 

“Not with me under you, you couldn’t. Wait, don’t do that. Put your hand back right this instant!”

“It’s fine. Trust me, John. I’ve…OOF!” Sherlock had collapsed on top of John knocking the wind out of them both.

“Mother fucker! Get off!” John yelled, trying to shove Sherlock off of his now crushed body.

“That’s not helping, John. Remain calm…”

“Remain calm?! My balls!!!”

“Are fine.”

“OWW! You needle nose butt fucker!”

“That was…different. What does it mean?”

“It means that I took wrestling in high school and I’m about to crush you between my thighs like a grape.”

“Stop it, John! Stop it right this instant and act like an adult!”

“Act like an adult? You’re the one playing bloody games! OW! My liver!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, John. That wasn’t your liver!” THUD!

***

Mycroft looked at Greg, who then nodded, and shoved the door open without knocking, announcing;

“Mycroft and I are getting married and we’d like it if you’d both stand up with us at the ceremony…what the bloody hell…”

John and Sherlock layer sprawled on plastic sheeting, limbs tangled into an unnatural position.

“What are you doing, brother mine?” Mycroft asked seriously.

“It’s Twister,” replied John. “This nutter wanted to play nude Twister now here we are. Get off me!” John said, finally able to shove Sherlock’s surprisingly heavy form off of his own. 

“Yes. You might want to knock the next time,” said Sherlock.

“Indeed. Sounds like a good idea. Gregory, shall we?”

“Wait. You’re getting married?!” Sherlock exclaimed.

“So Gregory said. I’m glad that you were paying attention despite,” Mycroft gestured at their undignified position, “all of this.”

“You came down here just to tell me that?!” Sherlock said, astonished.

“Obviously,” Mycroft replied.

“Why didn’t you just text?”

“Why not indeed.” Mycroft glanced over at Greg who was looking a little sheepish.

“We’ll, uh, be going now,” Greg said, grabbing Mycroft by the suit coat and pulling along towards the door behind him.

“You’re marring the line of my suit, Gregory.”

“Sorry.”

And then the were gone.

“Now, where were we?” Sherlock asked.

“Right hand, red?” John grinned.

Sherlock grinned back, placing a delicate kiss on the corner of John’s mouth.

“Right hand red, it is. Let the games begin!”


End file.
